


Mint

by jannah (fromjannah)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Gen, I wrote this to cope, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, are you guys in shock bc i sure am, not actually RPF, spoilers for march 1st stream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromjannah/pseuds/jannah
Summary: Tommy and Wilbur reunite, but not in life.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 25
Kudos: 220





	Mint

**Author's Note:**

> That awkward moment when Tommy just straight up has an actual canon death and all of your fanfic drafts are suddenly canon divergent and you need to write something because you're in Spain without the s.
> 
> TW for mentions about uhhh getting beat to death. The descriptions aren't very in depth but they aren't exactly vague, either. 
> 
> This is about the DSMP characters! Apologies for any grammar or spelling errors, I wrote this in literally an hour.

The first thing Tommy notices about the afterlife is that it smells like mint tea.

For a moment, he is back home, the home he had grown up in, and Phil’s boiling water and getting a sprig of fresh mint for Techno and Wilbur to drink before an early morning of training. Tommy’s pretending to sleep a bit longer so he won’t have to go farm but Wilbur will start calling him names in a sing-song manner because of course he knows Tommy’s faking it and Techno will punch Tommy lightly in the shoulders to wake him up, Phil will tell them to leave him alone and bring him his own mug of tea, with an extra helping of sugar and a squirt of lemon. 

He’s expecting to hear his brother, but he’s not expecting Wilbur to say, very frankly shocked: “What the _fuck._ ”

“Huh,” remarks another voice, barely interested. Tommy thinks that it’s Technoblade for a moment, and it is an American person, but that’s wrong, they sound very different. “Well, you wanted to see your brother, huh, Soot?”

“Oh, fuck off,” says Wilbur, and he sounds a bit strange -- panicky and confused. That’s not right, either -- Wilbur always sounds like he knows everything, with all of his big words and supposedly superior intellect. Emphasis on the ‘supposedly’. Everyone knows that Tommy is the smartest in their family, biggest brain and biggest man, obviously. “Tommy? Tommy, what -- no, why aren’t you respawning, damn it -- ”

“Looks like he finally bit the dust,” says the other voice dryly. “About time, really.”

“Schlatt, I swear,” Wilbur threatens, but his voice is going pitchy. “Fuck off and go and -- I don't know, just get away from him.” 

“Gladly,” snorts the voice. “Have fun.” 

Schlatt? Who the hell is --

_Okay. Why don’t you go see him?_

Tommy gasps and his eyes open, lungs inhaling the cool air he’s surrounded by, nostrils filling with the overwhelming sharp scent of mint. He sits up suddenly -- he was laying down? -- and his arms reach for something, anything, he can’t see, what the hell is going on -- 

“ _Tommy,"_ says Wilbur, and he’s the first thing that Tommy can see, _what the shit, what the actual shit._ The first thing that Tommy focuses on are his dark, concerned eyes, and then his pale hand grabbing onto one of Tommy’s flailing arms. “Tommy -- ”

His voice _bzz_ es out into background noise -- Tommy can see his mouth moving but the noises don’t make sense, he’s just focused on how Wilbur’s hand is on his arm, _Wilbur, Wilbur is here,_ but he’s not alive, he hasn’t been resurrected, no -- 

Tommy gasps in another breath and he feels as though he will vomit, but there’s nothing inside of him -- he’s empty, completely so, he can’t even feel his heart beating, _oh god oh hell oh shit my heart isn’t beating that’s not poggers_ and it’s almost funny how that’s his first negative adjective except it’s _not_ because Wilbur is _here_ but he’s not _alive_ which means that Tommy is --

He lays a free hand on his stomach, clothed in his shirt, his goddamned red and white shirt, with him to the end. There are no bruises or blood but the ghost of the hurt is still there, the _crack_ of pain as a hand hit him, surrounded by the obsidian and the lava, and oh, god, Tommy couldn’t even breathe because the walls felt like they were closing in on him as his skin split -- 

_“Tommy!”_ says Wilbur for what must have been the twentieth time. His hands move to Tommy’s shoulder and he shakes him gently, bracing. The last time they had both been like this was in the ravine and Wilbur had not been nearly so careful then. There’s only worriment in him, only horrified anxiety. “Tommy, you stupid _child_ , please, you need to calm down.” 

Tommy finally meets Wilbur’s eyes and he feels himself stilling under his brother’s touch, impossibly. “Wilbur,” he says -- and he shouldn’t be able to say that, his lip has been split by a slap. His mouth should be full of coppery blood, and it _had_ been, it had leaked all over his nose and made his mouth taste metallic but all he can taste is mint tea, lingering over his taste buds. He says, again, on a sob, not even firing back to the ‘stupid child’ comment, “ _Wilbur_.” 

It’s not evident who goes forward first, but the brothers go into a crushing embrace. It would’ve been nearly painful if Tommy couldn’t remember the feeling of his ribs cracking and sliding out of place like puzzle pieces. But it's just comforting, somehow, it's something in this strange realm that is familiar. It's _Wilbur,_ smelling of ozone and mint and home. 

Wilbur moves back, then, but still keeps Tommy at an arm's length, still keeps his hands on Tommy's shoulders. “Tommy,” he says, and he's serious, it's all so serious. Tommy nearly has an urge to do something spectacularly stupid like… like cartwheel through the afterlife and almost hit his head and go, _I’m fine, stop moping around and being angsty, bitch_. He is very obviously not fine, but, well, semantics.

"What the fuck did you _do_?" Wilbur asks on a terrified breath, and it almost, impossibly, resembles what Tommy had asked Tubbo after the final disc confrontation, after he had heard Wilbur, after he had assumed that he would be seeing his brother soon but not like this -- it's ironic, almost, and Tommy feels as though that in time, or perhaps in a different life, Wilbur would've enjoyed the irony. 

But this isn't a different life. This isn't even life. 

Tommy shuts his eyes and tells Wilbur how he died -- for the third time and for good. 

**Author's Note:**

> How are we feeling, friends. How are we feeling.


End file.
